


[epilogue]

by Trismegistus (Lebateleur)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-15
Updated: 2004-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lebateleur/pseuds/Trismegistus
Summary: An optional, emphatically NSFW epilogue to the ficThe Liar and the Auror.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Kudos: 10





	[epilogue]

Even he had had doubts the first time, and he was the one who'd suggested that they try it in the first place. Still, there's a huge gulf between fantasising about being buggered and actually having it done to you. That he might let Snape do this to _him_ hadn't even occurred to him for quite some time. 

He'd even wondered if Snape was right. He'd never fancied men, after all. Perhaps it was possible to spend the better part of a year sleeping next to Snape, kissing Snape, but not actually _fancying_ Snape in the strictest sense of the word. He didn't think there was anything normal about that, but he was also far past believing that his life conformed to any standard of normality.

After a trail of failed attempts at considering the possibility in the shower, on the nights when Snape slept in his own bedroom, or during the afternoons when Snape was puttering about in the garage or in the garden, when he'd finally convinced himself that he had been wrong, that was when the thought had slipped in like a thief in the night - Snape on top of _him,_ and suddenly he'd realised, ah, _yes. That's_ what I want, isn't it? 

Still, there is a huge gulf between fantasising and doing, and he'd had his doubts. But he loves it, loves it, loves it now. Loves it. Loves everything about it. Loves the way Snape's face looks looming over him, flushed scarlet, the colour not at all becoming on his normally sallow complexion. Loves the sweat that mats Snape's greasy hair to his temples and rolls off the tip of his giant nose, the way it glistens on the hair around his nipples. 

Snape doesn't have what anyone would describe as flawless skin, and it just gets uglier when he's fucking: huge red blots of flush creeping up across his body. Harry runs his hands down Snape's sweat-slicked back and Snape moans and twists beneath his touch. Harry's legs are wrapped around Snape's waist. His thighs ache from being stretched around Snape's body, and he loves that feeling too. 

Snape's cock is inside him, rubbing, sliding, thrusting, colliding, and it feels so good. Snape is panting; his breath pours over Harry's face in hot gusts, and Harry arches towards it and moans.

Snape moans too, voice rasped raw with usage and lust. Harry likes him best like this, when he's so far gone he doesn't care how he looks or sounds, when all he cares about is the feel of Harry beneath him, Harry around him. Harry's intoxicated by the intimacy of it - this, _this_ is sneering, caustic Snape, and all he wants is to get further inside of Harry.

Snape is far from an experienced lover and possesses nothing in the way of finesse and little by way of variation. But Harry loves even this - the unbridled, raw enthusiasm with which Snape approaches the act. Snape pounds into and out of him with a fury that Harry was never able to summon for any of his lovers, and he arches into and writhes away from Snape in ecstasies of sensation. 

The sound of their bodies colliding blends with the creaking bedsprings, their harsh panting, the moans and gasps escaping unchecked from their mouths. Snape is riding Harry hard now, Harry feels each thrust piercing into him, and it's too much. He throws his head back and comes.

Snape's thrusting slows as he watches Harry through glittering, slitted eyes.

"Ah, god," Harry murmurs. "Ah..." 

He reaches up and caresses Snape's arms, his chest, his back, his shoulders as Snape begins to move inside him once more. Snape is driving into him, face contorted, lips pulled back over yellowed, crooked teeth.

"Snape..." He whispers the name, caresses, and whispers again.

And then it's Snape's turn, and he climaxes in a shuddering, spasming heap atop of Harry. 

They lie still for some moments, entwined in one another's bodies until Snape grows too heavy and Harry rolls him off with a slight grunt. Snape makes his own brief grunt of protest, then raises himself on one elbow to get the rag from the bedside table. Harry is content to lie silently while Snape ministers to him, roughly sponging his body off.

Once he's cleaned Harry to his satisfaction, Snape lowers himself gently back onto the bed, and Harry folds him into his arms.

Snape doesn't possess any finesse after the act either, so it comes as no surprise to Harry when Snape's breathing slows into the deep, even respiration of sleep. He rests his forehead against Snape's shoulder and inhales the scent of Snape's sweaty hair, and it isn't long before he's ready to sleep himself.

"Assure me, Potter, that you are still among the living."

He doesn't quite jump, but Snape seems to sense his surprise anyway. 

"No fair," he says. "You always fall asleep the moment you've finished." 

"To face plenty of 'old man' comments in the morning, however 'well intentioned' they may be."

It's true; Harry can't argue with him there.

"Just thinking, anyway," he says, and yawns hugely.

"Mmm. About?"

"You really want to know?"

"Would I have wasted my time asking, otherwise?"

Harry wraps himself more securely around Snape, the wiry hairs of Snape's chest itching against the skin of his arms. "About how everyone thought you were an ugly git at Hogwarts, and here I am, in bed with you."

"Is that so," Snape says dryly, although Harry can tell that he's laughing along with him. "My, how things have changed."

"Not really. You're still an ugly git, after all," Harry tells him with a straight face.

Snape rolls suddenly to face Harry, the post-coital variation on his habitual theatric whirl. "You will pay dearly for that remark, Potter," he says. "Tomorrow, after I wake up."

Harry laughs and rests his head against Snape's chest, where he can feel the silent rumble of Snape's laughter against his cheek.


End file.
